


Switchblade

by Ziane



Series: SangCheng Week 2019 [4]
Category: Founder of Diabolism, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Aftercare, Day7, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Porn with Feelings, SangCheng Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 04:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19040737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziane/pseuds/Ziane
Summary: After the Guanyin Temple incident, Jiang Cheng retreats to Lotus Pier and brings Nie Huaisang along.





	Switchblade

**Author's Note:**

> Day 7 - "Listen"  
> Enjoy the knives, the sprinkle of angst, and the smut.  
> This fic is NSFW (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

“Come to Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng said to him, and Nie Huaisang obeyed. What else could have he done? His men along with the Yunmeng Jiang Sect and the Gusu Lan Sect protect the sealed coffin during the night and will transport it tomorrow to the Unclean Realm. But tonight, shaken as he is, he doesn’t know what to expect anymore, not at that request from  _him._  Somehow, Jiang Cheng has made him forget this horrible night; the sight of his brother’s fierce corpse, Jin Guangyao’s eyes full of hatred and defeat, Wei Wuxian’s endless questioning about his motives. As if Nie Huaisang had to explain a single thing to those who let this happen or to those who owe him the tender reunion they finally had. All gone with a simple  _come with me_ from Jiang Cheng.

Nie Huaisang sits at the edge of Jiang Cheng’s bed and regrets the absence of his handy folding fan. He needs to cover his face from the man staring at him with dried-up tears smeared all over his cheeks. Still beautiful; from the moment he rampaged into the Guanyin temple with an umbrella and Zidian, single-handedly beating ten cultivators to now, injured and low on energy and spirits. Nie Huaisang sighs. A pair of servants enter the chambers, lit more candles for them, and leave a basin with some gauzes and towels beside the bed. “Out,” Jiang Cheng barks. They leave at once.

He stands. “Not you.” Nie Huaisang sits again.

“What am I doing here?” Jiang Cheng struggles to pry open his jianxu until a pair of hands brush his away and yield to the task. It’s the first time he sees the long transversal scar of the disciplinary whip on his chest. He tries not to stare, but it stands out more than the recently stab through the heart. Soon, his upper garments pool on the floor. Useless and soaked in blood. They are a strange purple color now. Ignoring his question, Jiang Cheng maintains a straight face while Nie Huaisang carefully washes his wound from dried, black blood and the new scarlet threads that trickle out of it.

“How long?” Jiang Cheng asks, and Nie Huaisang’s wry smile catches him by surprise.

“Longer than you.” Jiang Cheng hisses when the now pinkish cloth presses against his wound to stop the bleeding. “You know I hate blood.”

“I saw you pretending to faint earlier from the scratch on your leg.” Nie Huaisang snorts, but Jiang Cheng grasps his wrist and the green jade of his eyes meet the deep-blue sea of Jiang Cheng’s. “How long?”

“How long what?” Every second those summer-sky eyes land on his own, the wall he built around his heart cracks and trembles as if an earthquake had staggered through.

“How long have you been in love with me?” The corner of his mouth pulls upward. He was definitely not expecting that question from him. With a whip of his arm and a flick of his sleeve, Nie Huaisang breaks free from his grip and averts his gaze. He misses his hand fan again.

“Longer than I remember.” Nie Huaisang stands, tossing the bloodstained cloth in the basin.

“Wait!” Jiang Cheng sits up with a groan and grasps the long cuff sleeve as if he were a child. “Listen.” Nie Huaisang flinches ever so slightly, refusing to look at him and wanting to scoot out of that door before his heart shatters. “Listen to me.” Jiang Cheng swallows his pride for the second time tonight. “Please.” He may have lost Wei Wuxian forever due to irreconcilable past mistakes and grudges, but he won’t lose him.

Nie Huaisang wipes the importunate tear trickling down his cheek before he turns about and sits on the edge of the bed again. Jiang Cheng reclines back and takes a clean cloth that Nie Huaisang steals from his hand. “I’m listening.” Wiping the remnants of blood from his chest, he does.

“I knew you’d come with me because I’ve always known you’ve been in love with me,” Jiang Cheng says. “Or at least you were.” He pauses. “Once.”

“Was I?” Nie Huaisang scoffs. “What a foolish kid.”

“Indeed.” The lack of smile shrinks his heart; as if it wasn’t already quivering! But what’s another secret in the open in a night like this? “I’m a fraud,” Jiang Cheng says.

“A ravishing fraud,” Nie Huaisang smiles at his busy hands, perhaps lingering a bit too much on the pale, unharmed flesh.

“I’m not looking for lip service,” he scoffs. “I’m sorry about your brother.” Jiang Cheng takes his hand; ten-or-so years too late but he does. “How does revenge taste like?”

“You should know.”

“How does it taste like for you?” Nie Huaisang meets his eyes. Jiang Cheng’s thumb strokes his palm, and he hopes he doesn’t notice how his heartbeat races.

“Bittersweet,” he answers. Jiang Cheng beckons with his head and pats the other side of the bed. Nie Huaisang’s heart stops at a halt for a hot minute before it recovers from the shock.

His bed is more comfortable than he had imagined. Because he has imagined it. Jiang Cheng discards the dirty gauzes and takes the only clean one left. “Your leg.” Nie Huaisang tugs at his sash and parts his lower skirts, revealing a long, slender leg and a not so deep wound across his thigh. Jiang Cheng straightens, tugging at his boots one by one and throwing them at the foot of the bed. His gaze rivets his leg from his toes, his calf, his knee, and the tender flesh of his thigh. “I can unsheathe Suibian.” He cleans the scarce blood there, taking his time, his thumb pressing his skin as it leaves a pink hue on its path. “Everything Jin Guangyao said is true.”

Nie Huaisang swallows a lump in his throat before he realizes the heat on his face translates in a flustered complexion. “I-I can just… leave it.” He tries to wipe away Jiang Cheng’s hand, but he shushes him, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. So sweet he bites back a moan.

“I am a fraud,” he continues. “The golden core inside me isn’t even mine.” He tosses the gauze away, fetching a pot filled with a white salve. He dips his fingers inside, scooping some and placing it carefully over the blade wound on his leg. “I didn’t even notice… but then I could wield Suibian when no one can, and believe me, I’ve checked.”

“So I’ve heard,” Nie Huaisang mumbles, stricken by the tender massage of Jiang Cheng’s hand on his thigh. It spreads out of the safety of his wound; so up his thigh, his stomach clenches; so low his toes curl and he bites his lower lip. Jiang Cheng is turning his innards to ribbons.

“I’m worthless.”

“You are you.”

“I’m not,” Jiang Cheng mutters, focused on the task.

Nie Huaisang sighs, pensive even though the mere touch of his hand has stolen his wits away. “Would Zidian answer to me?”

“No, if I don’t want to.” Those bluer-than-the-sky eyes pierce him in place, and Nie Huaisang sinks in the pillows, defeated. It seems like he hasn’t slept in ages and the bed is way too comfortable. “What’s your point?”

“Does Zidian answer to you?” Jiang Cheng nods. “Hence, you are still you.”

Jiang Cheng lets out a wry a chuckle, smearing the remnants of the unguent on his chest wound before he tackles Nie Huaisang against the mattress. He sinks even more in the myriad of pillows, pinned down by the object of his obsession and the wreckage of the last wall shielding his heart. “I have lost all my family except A-Ling.”

“So have I,” Nie Huaisang retorts.

“I have devoted my life to revenge.” He parts his lips to say so he has, but Jiang Cheng keeps talking. “I have failed him as an uncle, I have failed as a shidi, and after I fulfilled my revenge, I realized I have failed to have a golden core because my success is not mine and belongs to another.” Jiang Cheng drowns in a prairie of green and fertile ground. “And I have been stabbed through the heart. Twice.”

“Once,” Nie Huaisang mutters.

“Then stop looking at me like that,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “As if you cared; as if I were to lean down and bite you.” He breathes out the words into his mouth, and Nie Huaisang’s heart gallops uselessly because it cannot run away from this and neither can he. “Why won’t you shut me up already?”

“You said…” Nie Huaisang lifts his hand, his fingers tracing a strong jawline he has dreamed to outline in kisses so many times he should be ashamed. He lifts his head from the pillows and presses their lips together so briefly he has no time to feel it. “Like so?”

“Yes.” The whisper curls his stomach nice and warm.

Nie Huaisang opens his mouth and presses their lips again, his tongue swiping over those tender, hot lips. “Bittersweet,” he mumbles, their lips bumping at every syllable. Jiang Cheng’s weight is all over him, robbing him of his breath and his pride when he’s hard against his thigh and there’s nowhere to hide. Nie Huaisang licks his lower lip. “Salty.” He follows Jiang Cheng’s half smile with the tip of his tongue and then dips inside, surprised at his own needy moan when his wet tongue receives him. “Regret?” Lightheaded and broken, tears gather at the corners of his eyes and Nie Huaisang fears waking up.

“Never.” Jiang Cheng steals the first of many kisses that follow his shy demonstration of love. It’s like a treat for his shattered soul. “Stay the night.” Somehow, it sounds like a plea, accompanied by a wounded body that traps him against the bed as if he would run away to never come back. What a fool! Nie Huaisang wraps arms and legs around him. Aren’t they both wounded souls meant to drift in oblivion?

“Yes,” he gasps. “But you are in no condition to please me now,” Nie Huaisang teases, glimpsing a spark in his eyes.

“Says who?” Jiang Cheng grasps his thigh with a greedy hand, ensconcing himself between his legs as if he belonged there and nowhere else.

“And my leg hurts,” he pouts.

Jiang Cheng digs holes in the shape of his fingertips, his thumb tracing the slippery wound so maliciously it starts bleeding again. “Liar.”

Clinging to his neck, Nie Huaisang smirks and pushes him onward. “If only you knew.”

“Oh, but I know.” Nie Huaisang instantly regrets that bold move when Jiang Cheng smiles a wolfish grin.

Jiang Cheng’s hand roves up his waist and up to his chest, tearing open his robes with such urgency Nie Huaisang moans in the middle of the kiss. If you could call a kiss the never-ending dragging of their mouths refusing to let go. His hands are all over him, spreading wide and exploratory over ownerless skin. Nie Huaisang moves his tattered clothes aside, blushing all over his neck and chest when he’s completely naked only wearing his long sleeves and exposed just for Jiang Cheng’s eyes. And he’s hard, his shy cock already leaking a clear trail over his stomach.

Jiang Cheng braces himself on the bed with one hand, the other fondling Nie Huaisang’s chest, his thumb tracing circles over a perked nipple. The sight of him so defenseless and innocent ignites his desire, his cock huddled to a side and straining his trousers. “Don’t stare,” Nie Huaisang murmurs when those blue eyes seem to leave marks on his skin.

“Do you want to leave?” There’s a subtle plea in his question. Nie Huaisang shakes his head. “Can I?” Jiang Cheng asks. Nie Huaisang nods. Will he ever learn to refuse anything from him?

Sitting on his calves, Jiang Cheng admires him unabashedly. He lifts his fingers and shoves them into his mouth while lost in the enticing view. Nie Huaisang grasps his wrist, takes them out and slides them into his own so lewdly Jiang Cheng groans. His tongue slips in between his fingers, salty by the tears, slightly metallic by the blood. He coats them well in spit, twirling his tongue around them.

In a heartbeat, Jiang Cheng spreads his legs until they mold his width and withdraws his fingers out with urgency, bumping into his swollen lips. He leans forward, hovering over him, his hand sneaking in between Nie Huaisang’s butt cheeks. All too soon he finds his entrance, brushes his fingers gently over it and relishes in the soft whimper and obvious tremble that courses through Nie Huaisang. “There’s a vial of oil underneath the pillows,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “Find it.” He slides a finger inside him, fighting the tightness with a dose of eagerness. Nie Huaisang moans from the back of his throat.

He fumbles for what has been asked with both hands, his eyes staring into Jiang Cheng’s, his mouth parted and his legs spreading to get more of that delectable finger fucking him. His knuckles bump into something, and he clutches to the vial of oil, surely guessing what comes right after. Sloppily, he pours too much into his palm, the rest smearing on the bedding, the small bottle falling unceremoniously to the wooden floor and rolling a few inches.

Jiang Cheng withdraws his fingers from Nie Huaisang’s warmth and undoes his sash and trousers, rolling them down his thighs. He has no intentions nor patience to undress. “You’re big,” Nie Huaisang gasps. His slick-oiled hand wraps around his thick, hard cock. Jiang Cheng shudders, his hips rocking into his loose fist. His hand joins Nie Huaisang’s getting some of that oil for his own purposes.

While Nie Huaisang strokes him shyer than he expected, he coats his entrance in oil and pushes two fingers inside. Nie Huaisang thrashes his head back onto the pillows, squeezing the cock in his hand while he endures those ruthless fingers making a way for themselves inside him. In lonely nights he has done the same, wanting to feel what it would be, pursuing his own pleasure, exploring his body along with a fantasy involving Jiang Cheng most nights if not all.

Nie Huaisang opens his eyes and glances at him behind hooded lids, afraid of waking up from a treacherous dream. “Wanyin,” he gasps.

Nuzzling behind his ear, Jiang Cheng speaks: “I’ve been with many men.” The whisper churns Nie Huaisang’s stomach, and he sobs at the unwanted tidbit of information. “And with all of them, I pretended they were you.” His fingers have turned his ass tender in a relentless back and forth. He takes them whole and clenches for more.

Nie Huaisang threads his fingers in Jiang Cheng’s hair, mussing up his top knot, keeping him there in the crook of his neck while dainty kisses map his skin. When he’s about to lose himself in the sensations, giving in finally, his legs sprawled so wide he knows no shame and no embarrassment any longer, and his cock getting a delicious friction against him, Jiang Cheng leaves him awfully empty and longing.

It doesn’t last long though. Jiang Cheng molds the lush curve of his butt cheeks with his hips and aligns himself. The tip of his length tugs at his hole and Nie Huaisang whimpers. Both of Jiang Cheng arms bracket his head, his mouth hovering over his swollen, spit-licked lips, his breath distracting enough that he forgets what they’re doing for a brief second.

“I want you,” Nie Huaisang whispers. Jiang Cheng swivels his hips forward, his oil-slicked cock gliding seamlessly inside him despite being too big to fit at first glance. Nie Huaisang exhales a muttered breath at the sudden discomfort of his rim being stretched so wide, but when he slides another inch inside him, he clings to his neck and hides, his breath seizing.

Jiang Cheng waits until Nie Huaisang breathes again. He tilts his hips gently to make way for himself. He’s so tight, his heat nigh-unbearable, his body hugging him like a mold. Stealing a couple more of those moans that pull at his heartstrings, Jiang Cheng sheathes in. He grunts, pushing until the last inch of his cock is inside Nie Huaisang so he can finally breathe out his desperation. Sweet completion in a night like this...

“I’ve been with no one,” Nie Huaisang whispers into his ear, his voice trembling. “My… experience extends to myself.” Jiang Cheng stiffens. Has he just stolen Nie Huaisang’s virginity in a thoughtless onslaught? He would have never imagined this was his first time, he assumed he had the experience, he assumed he had lovers over the years, he assumed so many things he shouldn’t have. “I trusted no one enough to…” Jiang Cheng shushes those words said at the verge of crying. The last thing he wants to see tonight is him crying.

Still unmoving, Jiang Cheng kisses Nie Huaisang’s damp cheek with all the love he can muster, which is surprisingly overwhelming even to himself. “You’re beautiful,” he states, his thighs relaxing, cupping Nie Huaisang’s body between them. “More than I could ever dream.” His hands thread in the black sea of his hair impatient to own, to claim. “More than I deserve.” He aches to move and claim other parts of him too, but he waits. Sparing more kisses, whispering words of love he would have never dared to say out loud.

Nie Huaisang’s heart melts, stuffed to the brim of him, tears welling in his eyes in a mixture of joy and sadness. “You can fuck me, go ahead,” he says, fearing his inexperience is hindering Jiang Cheng’s pleasure. He finally moves, so tenderly he feels how he pulls out until only the tip is breaching him, and then how he plunges back in where he belongs. It burns in a mixture of discomfort and desire of being full. Nie Huaisang lets out a sultry moan. “More.” It’s so different from his fingers, he’s so full of him, so stretched, his cock trapped between them twitching from sheer pleasure.

“I’m doing more than fucking you, Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng mumbles. The sway of his hips is a dance he never allows himself to enjoy. This is not how he expected things to go. What was he expecting? An experienced mistress begging for his cock? Just another mildly satisfactory lover? He doesn’t deserve the love he steals at every thrust, those little whimpers and ragged breaths poured into his ears. He’s a thief, and yet he pounds into him as if his life depended on it. “I’ve been in love with you too.” Nie Huaisang sobs. Jiang Cheng curses his choice of words at deeming them too frail and not accurate.

Has he dreamed of him more nights than he has not? Is that love? Jiang Cheng has coveted his body, has wanted to fuck him hard and raw until he made him cry. He wanted to wrap Zidian around him and never allow him to leave his bed. Other nights he wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t feel his lips, confessing his love in ways that didn’t involve words. Others -which he isn’t proud of- he has sunk into meaningless lovers and found nothing but a dose of unrequited love, the one he’s been drinking since he met him.

And here he is, making love to him as he has never in his life. Desecrating his body with his cock. Owning, claiming, marking. Jiang Cheng bites his neck and clenches his teeth until he makes sure there’s a bruise behind. “Wanyin!” Nie Huaisang wails. A wet tongue swipes over the indentations as if asking for forgiveness, and Nie Huaisang graces him with it.

“I’ve wanted this for so long…” Truths seem to pour out of his mouth along with his ragged breath and his mindless thrusts. He’s riding him with wild abandon, sinking himself in the depths of his body and finding a home there. Nie Huaisang’s hands slide down his sides and palm his buttocks, following the sinuous movement of his hips.

“Faster, please, more,” Nie Huaisang mumbles. Every word is a moan, every moan a deep lunge inside him. Excess oil trickles down his rim and whatever discomfort he might have felt has turned into an irrepressible need to keep him inside and angled just right.

Jiang Cheng shushes him again, sneaking both his hand in between his mussed robes and his body to grope for his buttocks. He keeps him in place while he fucks him, slamming into him as if he knew nothing else in the world. His hot breath puffs against his neck, so desperate Nie Huaisang can feel it. He turns about, bumping into his cheek, and pressing a chaste kiss that matches none of their actions tonight. Jiang Cheng aims for the angle in which Nie Huaisang moans loudly into his ear and nails his fingers in his flesh.

Those gripping hands on his butt spur him on, and even at the verge of his climax, Jiang Cheng never ceases taking everything from him in case this never happens again. His night, his skin, his flesh, his virginity, everything. Nie Huaisang gets off of the friction of his cock against Jiang Cheng’s firm stomach and the hot-searing length splitting him open and brushing his prostate. He comes undone, mouth agape, spilling between them and trapping him inside him. How he wished he could trap him forever. He’s so embarrassed and limp, his orgasm flashing through him and taking away a lifetime of unrequited love in just a brief moment of glee.

Jiang Cheng murmurs something Nie Huaisang doesn’t understand. “You’re a dream.” And then he slams into him harder than before. Nie Huaisang writhes from the discomfort, and yet he allows it, begs for it, wants to be more, to elongate this moment for both. Frantic thrusts and muttered groans sum up Jiang Cheng’s climax. He spills thoroughly inside him, shoving his cock as deep as he can before it goes soft. How he wished he could stay there forever. He keeps fucking him for as long as he can before his muscles stop answering his commands and his cock slips out of him followed by a white trail.

A warm, dripping liquid joins the trail of the oil, and Nie Huaisang wrinkles his eyes shut at the same time his cheeks turn a new shade of red. With one last kiss on his neck, Jiang Cheng stands, still catching up his breath, and leaves the bed and his lover. Nie Huaisang watches how he pulls up his trousers before he disappears out the door.

He swears he has heard his heart shatter for the last time. Not even a glance; he wasn’t worth a glance back. Nie Huaisang straightens on the bed, his legs wobbly. There’s blood in his chest. Jiang Cheng’s. As best as he can, he wraps his garments loosely around him, wanting to escape this bed, this room, Lotus Pier, and the world. Sobbing up his feelings, he stands, awfully aware of his own sticky cum on his stomach and Jiang Cheng’s trickling down his thigh. His bravery lasts a few seconds before treacherous tears burn down his cheeks.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng stands before him, clean towel in hand, and Nie Huaisang knows nothing better than to sob and press his forehead into his chest. Tender arms find their way around him. “Don’t cry.” Nie Huaisang sobs again. “I’m not used to this, I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he says.

“It’s okay.” The sound comes muffled and Jiang Cheng stiffens a smile like he hasn’t in years.

“I’ve arranged a bath.” Nie Huaisang lifts his gaze, and before he can hide again against his chest, Jiang Cheng’s fingers trap his chin and tilt his head upward. “It’ll be ready in a while.”

“For me?”

“For us,” he says. “If you want.” His other hand wipes the tears from his cheeks, his heart breaking upon meeting those bleary, hazel eyes.

“I thought you were done with me and…” Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows twitch. It’s been a long night for both.

“I’m done with everyone except you.” Jiang Cheng has a way to state the truths of his heart way too blatantly and bluntly. But Nie Huaisang doesn’t mind that particular trait in him, much less that particular truth. “Sit.”

When he does, Jiang Cheng kneels before him, grasping his leg by the knee pit and wiping his mess with a warm, wet towel. Nie Huaisang averts his gaze while he cleans him up. He never thought about Jiang Cheng being caring and loving even though his lips are pressed in a thin line and his eyebrows knit in a furrow. “You need not do this.”

“I want to.” He presses a kiss on his knee.

“I could get used to this,” Nie Huaisang murmurs, but a pair of blue eyes meet his gaze at once. The day his heart doesn’t skip a beat upon Jiang Cheng’s glare he’ll be dead.

“Then you’ll have to stay more than one night,” he quips, stealing a boyish smile from Nie Huaisang. Unable to resist it, Jiang Cheng seals their lips, wanting to treasure that smile just for himself, to see it every day, to forget the past and start something new, the two.

“Until you kick me out,” Nie Huaisang mumbles against his mouth, his arms clinging to Jiang Cheng’s neck, his heart warming up and letting him in.

“Forever then.” Jiang Cheng lifts Nie Huaisang off the bed with an arm behind his knees and another at his back with every intention to carry him to their bath. He leans into his chest, caressing his nape with coy fingertips, and pressing a kiss on the crook of his neck.

“Why now?” Nie Huaisang asks as if it mattered.

“Long overdue.” A soft giggle melts Jiang Cheng’s pierced heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and blessing me this week with all your sweet comments and kudos! .+:｡(ﾉ･ω･)ﾉﾞ The SangCheng family is amazing and did a great job spreading the love for Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang. You guys are the best!
> 
> I tried a different characterization here, a more vulnerable Nie Huaisang just starved of love and a mean cold-hearted Jiang Cheng so tired of life throwing stones at him he gathers enough courage to take what he always loved. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.
> 
> See y'all very soon!!! *evil laugh* ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)


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